


Poker

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:45:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4143375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin’s sweet Ori can’t seem to wait until Dori and Nori leave them alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poker

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Ori and DOYC are in a relationship, but every time the try to get some "alone time" with each other during the quest, Dori and/or Nori show up and ruin the moment. I just want Dori and Nori hilariously attempting to cockblock their little brother because they're worried about his virtue, and an Ori who's not as innocent as they think.” prompt on [the Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/10731.html?thread=21847019#t21847019).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The buns are stale, but no worse than the usual rations Dwalin’s had to live on since Erebor’s fall. The supplies they took from Rivendell are dwindling, and frankly, he’s surprised they’re still as edible as they are. Mortal-made food would’ve rotted weeks ago.

He eats away from the others. Not too far—he’ll hear any commotions and come running right away, armed and ready. Yet he sits with his back to camp, up against a tall, jagged rock, staring out amongst the trees. It’s growing dark, but there’s still time to sit alone and brood. For the most part, he’s enjoyed the camaraderie of traveling with so many loyal dwarves. 

But he hasn’t enjoyed Dori and Nori eyeing him like hawks. He likes them well enough, but ever since he started liking Ori _more_ , they’re difficult to get away from. Dwalin didn’t even try to draw Ori away to eat with him—every time they’re alone, Ori’s over protective brothers swoop in with too-friendly smiles but an unspoken warning. Dwalin expected that kind of behaviour from Dori—though Balin’s kindly offered to try and speak with him—but Nori is a surprise, who now curls around Ori just as fiercely. 

When Dwalin looks back at the sound of footsteps, he expects to see Thorin coming to him. Instead, it’s the object of all his thoughts. Ori comes picking through the branches and brambles, one bun held in his hand and his eyes down on the forest floor, careful of his steps. But he reaches Dwalin soon enough, smiling warmly and with a twinkle in his eye too reminiscent of his older brother. He whispers, “Hey,” like anything louder will draw the watchers. 

Dwalin grunts, “Hey,” in return, and tilts his head up. Ori bends down to brush a kiss across his mouth, chaste and quick. 

Then Ori drops to his knees, his purple-grey sweater stretched across them. He tosses one leg over Dwalin’s lap, moving to straddle it, his hands flying to Dwalin’s broad shoulders to steady himself. He has to put his bun in his mouth to keep them free. Dwalin clutches at Ori’s waist, wondering aloud, “What’re you doing?”

Ori’s hands slip down Dwalin’s chest. They dip beneath his thick armour, between the open cut of the tunic below. Then they slide into the front of Dwalin’s trousers, and Dwalin makes a choked noise of surprise, while Ori’s big bright eyes look innocently up at him, pink lips gagged around a bun. 

Dwalin grabs the bun away, awkwardly holding both while his other hand rests on Ori’s hip, and he growls again, “What’re you doing?” Just at that moment, Ori’s stout fingers wrap around his cock and jostle it out of his trousers, drawing it up between them. 

“I cut a hole out of my trousers,” Ori murmurs, and now his face is starting to flush, his voice husky. “And I prepared myself under my sleeping bag, so you can fuck me, and no one will know.” Dwalin makes a weak noise of complete incomprehension, and Ori lets out a stifled moan as he lifts up on his knees, hovering over Dwalin’s cock. “I’m sorry about my brothers. They won’t leave us alone, and I want you _so badly_ —I’m sick of it.” He lowers just enough for the head of Dwalin’s cock to nudge between his cheeks. Dwalin can feel the small rip in the fabric, the fraying edges brushing against his skin. He can feel the softness of Ori’s flesh and the tiny ring of furrowed muscles. With Ori’s long sweater covering his lap, it really doesn’t look like anything’s going on. But then Ori moans again, and Dwalin can feel the flutter of his brim and a tiny bead of liquid that drizzles out—some kind of lube. He should’ve known that no brother of Nori, even with another influence like Dori, could ever be truly _innocent_. 

Ori presses down just enough for the tip of Dwalin’s cock to pop inside, making them both gasp, Ori’s light and fluttering and Dwalin’s deep and raspy. Then Ori throws his arms around Dwalin’s neck and starts pushing himself down, thighs shaking around Dwalin’s lap, his hazy eyes looking up at Dwalin with such devotion that it’s a wonder Dwalin’s managing to keep the rest of their clothes on. Ori whispers, needy and strangely _sinful_ , “I _love_ you, Dwalin.”

Dwalin doesn’t have the chance to return the sentiment. He loves Ori very, very much, but he’s only just opened his mouth when his ears pick up more footsteps. Ori quickly grabs tighter to Dwalin, mewling in Dwalin’s ear, “I’ve waited so long to ride you—we have to do it like this—we’ll never be able to escape them at this rate, and I can’t wait the whole quest out! You’re so _big_ , and you feel so _good_ inside me, so _right_. I wish you could fuck me all the time...”

Dwalin feels faintly dizzy. Dori and Nori come wandering through the trees, and Ori pulls back, still fully seated on Dwalin’s fat cock, but their bodies apart enough to make it look as pure as one man in another’s lap can be. He plucks his bun out of Dwalin’s numb hand and takes a small nibble, like they’ve just been eating all along. Dwalin can’t help but glance down. The sweater still hides everything.

Dori takes a seat across from them, sitting down against a tree. Nori follows and grins more convincingly than Dori. He chirps, friendly as ever, “Nice night, isn’t it?”

Dwalin means to answer, but his reply comes out garbled. Ori’s shifted forward, his hot walls seeming to suck at Dwalin, clenching down around his shaft. Over his shoulder, Ori pops his bun out of his pink lips and says, only a tiny bit hoarse, “It’s beautiful.”

“You can see it better from the campfire,” Dori suggests, transparent as ever. It isn’t that there’s any malice in it, exactly. He’s always been nice to Dwalin. It probably isn’t even that he doesn’t approve. It’s probably just that they want to keep Ori from getting in over his head with much older, seasoned warriors twice his size. Dwalin understands. He feels just as protective over Ori; in their place, he’d probably be the same. 

But he’s in his place, with a pretty lover in his lap, and he can only grunt, “Aye.” Ori subtly pats the back of Dwalin’s hand, and he gets the message, lifting his bun up for an inconspicuous bite. He can barely taste it. He’s got too much saliva welling up that he wants to spread over Ori’s neck. With Ori’s cloak back at the camp, his sweater’s neckline is just a little too revealing, giving Dwalin a tantalizing peak at Ori’s soft collarbone. Ori resumes nibbling at his bun, and Dori and Nori take slow, deliberate bites, starting straight at them. It’s easily the most awkward thing that’s ever happened in Dwalin’s life. 

And Ori makes it so much worse by _squirming_. He fidgets, grinding a little forward, then back, with messy movements, like he’s just adjusting. He doesn’t quite sit up and drop down; that would be too obvious. But he does rock in place while he asks over his shoulder, “Would you two mind if I had a moment with Dwalin? We’re only eating...”

“It’s not safe out,” Dori says, instantly dropping the casual façade. “You can eat back at the camp—”

“But we’re only talking,” Ori whines, his voice becoming strained and high-pitched, saccharine sweet. He sounds like a helpless puppy _begging_ to be let off his leash. How Dori and Nori manage to resist giving him everything he wants, Dwalin has no idea. When they don’t break, he whimpers, “Dwalin will take care of me.”

“Ori,” Nori starts, his voice strangely condescending for someone so troublesome, “you’re still young, and long stretches on the road like this can make men do odd things—”

“Like steal?” Ori asks. Nori opens his mouth to protest, but Ori goes on, “You eat alone with Bofur all the time.” Nori’s mouth clamps shut again, and at the same time, Ori draws his legs up to a different position, forcing Dwalin deeper inside him. Dwalin’s gritting his teeth so hard they’re nearly rattling. Ori’s so _tight_ that Dwalin can’t believe Ori’s managing this. Dwalin can feel the slick texture of the lube covering Ori’s velvety walls, but it still feels like he’s too big to fit. Yet Ori’s face is perfectly serene, albeit flushed. Every time his body flutters, Dwalin’s head thins.

Dori tries again, “Ori,” but at that moment, Ori swallows his last bite and clenches _hard_. He keeps licking at his fingers, his little pink tongue drawing up and down each digit while his walls seem to spasm around Dwalin’s cock, rippling and suckling and stiflingly hot. Ori pops his index finger into his mouth, making a show of it, his eyes darting up to Dwalin, and he holds his ass tight for several torturous seconds before releasing again. Across from them, Dori’s finishing up a sentence. Dwalin didn’t hear it. He’s busy staring at the sexy little minx in his lap.

His brain completely isn’t functioning. He needs to end this. He can’t do it, can’t look at Dori and Nori and not fuck their little brother hard into the forest floor. He abruptly shouts the first thing he can think of, “I need to piss!” It comes out so fierce that even Ori leans back.

All three brothers look instantly taken aback. Ori blinks in surprise, and Dori and Nori look shocked, probably more at the way Dwalin said it than the words themselves. When they don’t move, Dwalin roars like a wild warg, “Right now!”

Dori’s face turns red. He starts to mutter, “Sorry, sorry,” and Nori gets up. He’s a survivor; his instincts are probably telling him to run before Dwalin goes on the rampage. Dori’s too polite to linger. He grabs Nori’s arm and the two of them march hurriedly back to the camp, only glancing over their shoulders once, but Ori doesn’t scamper after them.

Ori blinks his big eyes and wrinkles his round nose and mumbles, cute as a button, “Inside me?”

Dwalin should explain. He can’t.

He’s too busy slamming his mouth into Ori, kissing him so hard that he’s knocked right over, Dwalin bearing down on top of him to rut him hard into the ground. Dori and Nori had no chance of getting Ori back anytime soon, anyway.


End file.
